


you are always that close

by zishtary



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, my first fic i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 16:11:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5381663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zishtary/pseuds/zishtary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Whoops, I was so close to kissing you there,” he said, lifting himself up off of Ashton all the while avoiding the older boy’s eyes. "That would have been weird.”</p><p>Then he heard Ashton laughed – or scoffed – and he didn’t know if it was laced with disappointment or sarcasm or genuine agreement of how weird it would be if they’d kissed, “You are always that close.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	you are always that close

Luke threw himself down on the leather couch at their dressing room. He was well exhausted, his navy blue muscle tee sticky with sweat and his breath still coming out in pants. He looked at the ceiling and enjoyed the contrasting silence; the high-pitched screams and booming music from the show earlier left his ears ringing. He was about to drift off into sleep when the door opened with a creak. Luke kept his eyes closed until a familiar voice boomed, “Good show?”

“Good show, man.”

Ashton nudged Luke’s feet to give him space at the end of the couch. Luke extended his arms instead, making grabby hands at the older boy, “Tired. Need cuddles.”

Ashton scrunched his nose at that, “You’re mega sweaty. And I can smell your body odour from miles.”

“As if you don’t smell like that too.”

“Yes, which is exactly why.”

Luke shook his head, “Which is exactly why _not_.” He was doing his best puppy eyes. He hoped it would work as well as before he grew all this grown up stubble.

It didn’t.

Luke pulled Ashton by his hand and the hem of his black, fitting t-shirt simultaneously, but the oldest stood firm still. They went on like that for a good minute, bursting in laughter at their own childish behavior, before Luke finally sat himself up and tugged harder. Ashton finally fell into the couch – the upper half of him anyway – and he was still flailing his arms to get away from Luke and his sticky skin while the youngest held on to him for dear life.

“Luke, you smell!”

“I smell like adrenaline!” Luke exclaimed with a growl, before putting his arms tightly around Ashton’s waist and flipped them over so he was on top. He buried his head on the crook of the tanned neck, panting out from laughing. The boy underneath him did not fight anymore; just lied there helplessly with his arms on the sides, consumed in his own laughter as well.

It was only when Luke started pulling away and their noses brushed that he realised how close they were. Luke swore if they both just pursed their lips a little, their lips would touch as well. He was put in a trance for a couple of seconds too long – he was always in a trance when looking at Ashton, but Lord, he could smell Ashton’s minty breath and hear the small laugh died down in his throat and feel his muscly thighs and memorise the pretty shades of the boy’s eyes. It was getting weird.

“Whoops, I was so close to kissing you there,” he said, lifting himself up off of Ashton all the while avoiding the older boy’s eyes. He furrowed his eyebrows and chuckled lightly like that would be a ridiculous thing to do, but he felt it; Ashton’s warm breath on his lips, his eyes full of wonder and the sweet scent of sweat and cologne oozing from the man formerly below him. He could feel his skin burning everywhere it made contact with Ashton through their sweaty t-shirts, but burned all the same; his forearms, his thighs nuzzled in between the other boy’s, his thumbs that was basically caressing Ashton’s soft curls. He carved everything into his memory silently and unconsciously, every little bit of _Ashton_ haunting his senses forever. “That would have been weird,” he said again with that same pretend chuckle, almost like an afterthought, to convince Ashton or himself he didn’t know. Why did he even point out that they almost kissed in the first place?

He walked away to the cabinet, suddenly in need of some coffee (he needed a distraction) and started to prepare a glass of it. He was slightly bothered by the silence, given that Ashton had only looked at him with wide eyes since he was squeezed under the younger. Then he heard Ashton laughed – or scoffed – and he didn’t know if it was laced with disappointment or sarcasm or genuine agreement of how _weird_ it would be if they’d kissed, “You are always that close.”

After that, Luke would wonder for days what it meant. He recalled his face being so close to Ashton’s several times, but something hit him like a cannonball this time. A realization of something, he didn’t know what, but he was never that close to kissing Ashton, he swore. His face was never that close, his heart was never beating this fast. He pondered in his head for seconds too long, he would realise, so he sighed and asked instead, “Do you want some coffee?”

Ashton said “Sure.” in his usual cheery voice, not laced with anything to overthink about this time. But as Luke put the coffee down in front of Ashton and plopped down on the couch next to him, keeping a small distance between them, he still would.

***

They had a week off, which was some sort of a miracle. The previous weeks had been them going from interviews to interviews and performing songs to songs. They loved living their dream, but man did it feel really great to unwind. Ashton and Luke had opt to go to the beach where they wrote Carry On in, insisting that they needed “a trip down memory lane.” The afternoon had set in and the sun was getting lower in the sky, casting a shadow over Ashton who was jogging towards the water in front of Luke in all his tanned glory. Luke didn’t even realise he was staring until Ashton turned around and started to run backwards, calling him over. He could not help throwing his head back, giggling like a little kid and started running faster, like all the weight on his shoulders have been lifted. Like he was drowned in the light that shone over him. Like he was in his happiest place to be.

(Ashton was his happiest place to be.)

Ashton stopped abruptly when his feet was slightly dipped in water to feel the waves wash over his skin, but Luke with his long, awkward limbs almost knocked the boy over. However, spider reflexes took over him and he quickly caught Ashton’s waist to keep him from falling. Soon enough they were too close again, and Luke was hit with a wave of déjà vu.

In that moment, if Luke could paint, he would paint the way the sun emphasised the colours of Ashton’s curious eyes that they shone so bright and pure and the most gorgeous palette of colours he has ever seen. He would write about the way his hands rested on the curves of Ashton’s waist and the feeling of their torso pressed against each other. He would make a work of art out of the masterpiece he was holding, illuminated by the sun that was starting to set in the horizon.

Oh my god, Luke hated this. Two boys staring into each other’s eyes in the beach as the sun sets. Total romcom material.

Luke broke into a sheepish smile while slowly letting go of Ashton, “So close to kissing you.” And he meant it as a joke; not as a statement of fact nor a statement of regret.

Except that it kind of was.

This time, though, Luke didn’t have the chance to look away when the older replied, “You are always that close.”

And this time, Luke was less of a coward.

“How close, Ash?”

Ashton was the one smiling sheepishly as he stated, “90%.”

“How about…” Luke slowly leaned closer. “93%?”

Ashton visibly gulped and his smile faded, but he wasn’t moving away. Luke knew his heart was beating out of his chest, but he was engulfed in courage, in now-or-never. He leaned closer again, keeping his eyes locked on the other boy’s slightly parted lips, “96%....”

Ashton was still not moving away. That must be a good sign. Closer.

“99%....”

He could count Ashton’s freckles or how long did he hold his breath or the area of orange in the boy’s eyes. But he didn’t want to count the probability of Ashton freaking out, pushing him into the water, running away and stop being his friend all together; he didn’t want to count the probability of his now-or-never becoming a straight out _never_. The world slowed down around him, all the sounds muted. Only him and the lips he had been flickering his eyes to. He gave Ashton the chance to doubt everything, “99.5%.” But the shorter's eyes fluttered close instead and that was all it took for Luke to close the gap between them.

He didn’t know it was possible for his body to burst into millions of sparks and mended into one piece at the same time, but that was what kissing his best friend felt like. He could taste the slight bitterness of coffee Ashton drank before heading to the beach, but it didn’t make the way he kissed less sweet. The kiss was gentle, even when he slightly opened his lips to let Ashton’s tongue in. At a point Luke’s arms gripped Ashton’s waist and the latter’s are wrapped around his neck so they were pressed flush against each other, because they were losing their balance as the waves dragged the sand away from under their feet. That, or because everything was so other-worldly. Overwhelming. Ashton’s lips were warm, soft and welcoming against Luke’s slightly chapped ones. He thought, _this is what home tastes like_.

They broke away all too quickly and spent many seconds just staring at each other with the widest grins plastered on their own faces. Until the dragging of the sand made them lose their balance again. Then they were Luke and Ashton as they had always been; childish and happy and splashing ocean water to each other until their shirts were soaked.

They were teenagers in love it was sickening. Luke loved it.

When their shirts were way too wet and they had become tired, they settled with sitting down with Ashton in between Luke’s legs, the waves caressing their feet once in a while. “You know,” Ashton spoke to the open ocean. “That was the dorkiest way someone has ever kissed me.” Luke blushed. He always knew he was some hopeless romantic, but maybe his dorky personality got in the way of the romantic execution of things. His cheeks turned a deeper shade of red when Ashton added, “And the best way someone has ever kissed me.”

The blonde giggled and pecked the older’s lips again. Then curiousity washed over him, “What was the 10% all about anyway?”

“You leaning in, you dork.”

“Oh,” he laughed.

They kept stealing kisses from each other like lovesick fools while watching the sunset like cheesy boyfriends. Well, not _boyfriends_ , not yet. Luke hoped making Ashton his would be the same case with kissing him; the last 10% left only to him asking.

But Luke was already content with everything that was happening. He was content with his heart expanding with so much happiness it was going to burst as Ashton giggled when he peppered kisses on his shoulders like he always did. He was content with looking at the sunset although he had to squint to do so because he forgot his sunglasses. But when he looked to his right, he was met with the silhouette of the boy that made his heart flutter and he no longer minded squinting at the sunset. Because his own sunshine was wrapped in his arms. And if he had to spend a lifetime squinting to look at Ashton, he would.


End file.
